I stayed up Tuesday night to watch the election. As soon as I got home that evening I put on my jogging pants and a t-shirt so I could be glued to the TV in comfort.

As you can guess, intensely fixing your eyes on maps with flashes of red, blue and numbers  isn't all that relaxing. My husband crashed on the couch around eleven. Luckily my son joined my watch party, otherwise I would have been talking to myself about result observations.

I was getting heavy-eyed around 2:30 when my son told me that Pennsylvania had been called. I was revived. I sat up and waited for your husband to make his acceptance speech. I was moved when I saw him swallow the lump in his throat. I saw your tired son walk out standing beside his dad. He looks like him.

Then I saw you.

You were beautiful. You smiled. But I couldn't help but think how weighted you looked. Maybe it was because you'd been up, no telling how many hours. Maybe the stress of waiting had taken its toll. It seemed as if the reality of the enormity of the position you'd been granted as First Lady was setting in.  Strangely, I could see myself in you.

You're a wife You're a mom. You're a woman with purpose. And at approximately 3 AM Wednesday morning, you'd landed a near-future residence in the world's biggest fishbowl. I live in a small fishbowl myself. I'm a pastor's wife. And whether real or imagined (probably mostly imagined) I feel my address is often in the court of public opinion. Some people will care about what we say or do without really caring about us. 

I guess we all live in our own fishbowl where we sometimes suspect many of our decisions are weighed unfairly.  (Speaking of decisions, I have a confession to make.) I was a closet voter this election. I felt that my decision would be judged by some without consideration as to my reasons. People can make some wild generalizations based on very little knowledge.

Fishbowl life with kids is tough. I cringe when my kids choose the most public time to do something rude (but totally normal) like interrupt someone or tell someone about a trashy rap song they like. A single action can become who people think they are.

And then there's our husband who lives right in the fishbowl's center. It's easy to feel an overwhelming sense of duty to protect the family from onlookers who

1. Might try to form an unfair opinion of us through an incomplete picture of who we are
2. Would try to put us on the shaky position of a pedestal
3. Just don't like us

When I saw you standing on stage by your husband, I felt commonality. I also felt an urgent need to pray for you specifically. I'm pretty sure you could use the prayer. Here's what I'm praying.

I'm praying for your marriage. My first thought upon seeing you for the first time announced as First Lady was that this will be an incredibly tough time for you as husband and wife. I know he's already been gone a lot on business, but I read that you stay busy with your son at home. I can imagine how you'll both have exhausting schedules that will constantly steal time, energy and your good mood. I pray you will both be able to spend quality time together and that you will be supportive of one another when the road becomes difficult (as it likely will).

I'm praying for your son and the rest of your family. Unfortunately when I saw Barron, I was reminded of how difficult it must be to be a White House Kid. Anything from appearing unamused to having a particular shaped nose becomes important conversation. I remember how this happened to the Clinton, Bush and Obama girls.  The fact that they're the president's kids makes even the most awful comments fair game. They're just kids, but half of the population wants them to be perfect while the other half wants to make them a laughingstock. I'm praying that your son will be protected, but also that he'll have strength needed in such occasions where he experiences how cruel people can be. I pray that your husband will find the time he needs as dad.

I'm praying for your loneliness. I know you'll be lonely at times. Keeping friends and making friends will be a tricky game. I'm not talking acquaintances, I'm talking good friends; the ones with whom you can share troubles like "how annoying your husband was yesterday" or a health scare- without those troubles going on Facebook, Twitter or to the tabloids (Do people read tabloids anymore?). It will be strange that your husband's position as president of the United States will wrestle with his position to simply be your man. I pray you'll find fulfilling companionship and friendship in those God places around you.

I'm praying that you'll stick to your purpose.  I read an interview you did this summer. One thing I admired about you was how you shamelessly touted your purpose as a mom. You know five, (or is it six?)  languages (for crying out loud) but what you pridefully assume is your job as Barron's mom. You let the public know that being there for him and guiding him through life is your current purpose. I'm praying that you won't cave to the pressure to take up some cause that will take too much time away from your son. He needs you especially now.

I'm praying that you pray. You haven't talked much about your spiritual life. That's ok. I know life will be crazy for the next four years. Whether or not you open up about your spiritual life, I hope you'll pray. I can't imagine how any First Family could survive without it. But then again, how could any of us?  I pray that your walk with God becomes more frequent and intimate. You'll be better for it. So will your husband and family. So will our country.

I don't know you. Only what I've read and that you've been chosen to serve our country as First Lady. What a responsibility. I pray you'll serve with grace and integrity.

Prayerfully,

Just another girl in a fishbowl

I Timothy 2:1-2 - I urge, then, first of all, that petitions, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for all people— for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness.

Update:

I had a lady comment on this letter to Melania. She asked to see the same nice letter I'd written to Michelle.

Of course there wasn't one.
In my regret and in the spirit of second chances I've written a letter to Mrs. Obama. You can read it HERE.